#god i didn’t realize how much i missed baking videos and this is another level

[fullyerecteggplant]

i’ve witnessed the second coming*

*the return of sister daniel

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #425

“evolution repressed by our backwards contest  /  breeding our torrential demise as we come to this edge”

Serious question, peanut butter or nutella? I think Nutella is a godsend, but I use peanut butter waaaaay more often. We don't even really buy Nutella because I will destroy the jar. Do you prefer baked potatoes or mashed potatoes? Baked. What is your oldest sibling’s middle name? Kathryn. I think. Do you like breadsticks? I just like bread, man. What are your favorite things to spend money on? Tattoos, uuuuugggghhhhh <3 Which would you rather have a new puppy or kitten? Neither, really. Most puppies drive me insane (even though they're cute as everliving fuck), and I don't want another cat. Mom actually talked about getting another, but I really just want my one boy. Roman would get SO jealous, anyway. I enjoy just having my baby. How old will you be on your next birthday? 26. Yikes. Do you ever feel self-conscious when you eat around other people? As "the fat one," I can be sometimes. I would say though that more often than not, it's sort of whatever to me because I'm a human that has to eat. When you opened your eyes this morning, what were your first thoughts? I thought I slept way later than I actually did. What is one thing in the room you’re in that reminds you of somebody? My stuffed meerkat Rebel. Jason got it for me for my first birthday that we were together. Could you ever be friends with somebody who was homophobic? Never again. I was once able to think "agree to disagree," but sometimes by doing so, you're siding with evil by not enforcing what is more than just a belief. It should come with being a human. Also given my own sexuality, it would be a slap in the face to me. Would you ever want to be a supermodel, or date one? Hell no. I'd date one though, if they were modest about their position. Honestly, have you ever made fun of somebody so bad they cried? Wow, no. Honestly, would you rather be complimented on your looks or intelligence? Quite frankly, nowadays, my appearance. I need it. My self-confidence is so far below "shit." Have you ever purchased a pregnancy test, for yourself or otherwise? Nope. You can get one thing, anything, for free right now. What do you pick? Why? Hm. I know I talk about it a lot, but it would still probably be a 40 gallon terrarium for Venus. She needs - and deserves - it. Honestly, have you ever danced naked? NOOOOOOOO. What was the first illegal thing that you did? Did you get caught? Downloaded music. My mom eventually found out, but didn't care much. What is the home page on the computer you’re on? Google. Do you like to write poetry? I do, but I haven't done it in a while. :/ Are your ears pierced? Yes. If so, were they pierced with a piercing gun, or with a sterile needle? Piercing gun. Which, by the way, do not do. There are many more risks with a piercing gun versus a needle by a professional. Do you wear makeup regularly? I never do. Did you eat cereal for breakfast today? No. I've been on a bagel kick lately. When was the last time you tripped over something? Last night, actually. The rug in the living room was slightly turned up, and I tripped in the dark. I didn't actually fall, thankfully. Any obsessive-compulsive tendencies? I'm diagnosed with OCD. I experience more ruminations and intrusive thoughts more than obsessive behaviors, though. Who was the last person you yelled at? Probably Mom. Why did you yell at them? I don't remember. Favorite type of apple? I like pink lady apples. I really enjoy any, so long as they're crisp. Ever seen live horse racing? No. To be totally honest, I don't really like the concept of it. Motivating a horse to run by hurting it doesn't exactly seem moral... How about live greyhound racing? No. What’s one thing, besides the obvious, that you couldn’t live without? The Internet, haha. Have you ever touched a giraffe? No. What does your mom call you? Britt. What stresses you out the most in life? I really don't think I could pick a top one. There are so many. Do you play any PC games? What is your favorite? Yeah. Y'all probably know WoW is my favorite. If you were pregnant, how would you tell the father? Well, that would depend on the circumstances. Did we want a baby? Was it a bad surprise, a happy surprise? I can't answer this with just one idea. What’s the hardest level you can play on Guitar Hero? I used to be able to slam out Expert easily with only very few songs I had to play on Hard, but now it's been YEARS. I've played less than once in a blue moon, and my skill's definitely faded some. It really depends on the song. What ever happened with you and your first boyfriend? He couldn't handle my depression anymore. What’s your favorite country song? "When The Stars Go Blue" by Tim McGraw, probably. What is the worst thing a former boyfriend/girlfriend has done to you? Fail to communicate what he was feeling with me and then make a dashing break for it very, very abruptly after three and a half years. It put me past a state of shock, but trauma with how no less than obsessed I was with him. What were you for Halloween last year? I didn't dress up. :/ I wish I had the money and motivation alike to. Are you feeling guilty for something? I always will. Are you usually quiet or loud? Quiet. How many hours do you spend on the computer a day? Like... uh... all of them, oof. What is the show that you watched when you were little, and you still do? Meerkat Manor. Do your siblings text you? Not really. Do you want a small or big wedding? Small. Have you ever searched for your own house on Google Earth? Not the house I currently live in, but I have before. Who is your ex dating/talking to? I don't know. Ever kissed someone who smokes? No. Does it take a lot for someone to annoy you? Frankly, no. Do you own your own computer? This laptop, anyway. Did you ever have to share a room with one of your siblings? Yes, with my younger sister as a kid and pre-teen. What noises in the room you’re in, do you hear at the moment? I hear the video I'm watching, as well as my fan. Have you ever dated someone with longer hair than yours? Yes. What’s the biggest upcoming event for you? Nothing. Not like that's a surprise. What do you typically order from Wendy’s? Son of the Baconator. @_@ Have you ever been given a lapdance by an actual stripper? No. Those are so awkward to me. What do you love most about yourself? I don't know these days. Have you ever received a hickey from the last person you kissed? No. What are you doing right now? This survey and re-watching John Wolfe play Outlast 2. What’s bothering you right now? I'm immensely nervous about tomorrow. I have my first (and I pray the fuck to God not only) session with my new personal trainer then, and I'm terrified by how my body and my mental fortitude is going to react. Y'all have no fucking idea JUST how out of shape I am, and the muscles in my legs seem basically non-existent by now. I have to do something about my health, though, and I'm determined to make this shit work. More than determined. I know the first day is going to be hard, but I need to do this more than I can explain. What was the last thing you drank? ... What great fucking timing, I have a can of Mountain Dew, lol... That's another thing that needs to change. I've gotta stop the emotional and boredom-eating and chill the fuck out with soda. Be honest, do you like people in general? Quite frankly, no. There are plenty of people I love and think are amazing, of course, but I think I lean towards humanity being too shitty to like "in general." Do you want your tongue pierced? I miss my snake eyes. :/ That was suuuuch a cute piercing. I just had to take it out for the safety of my teeth. I kept accidentally clamping down on one of the balls when eating, and it would cause tiny fractures. Do you change your phone background a lot? No. Have you ever made someone so mad that they broke something? No. Have you ever been strip searched? No. Do you have a funny last name? Does anyone make fun of it? It's not funny-sounding, no, I just think it's too manly for me to enjoy as part of my name. Ever have a drug overdose? What did you OD on exactly? Yes. Oddly enough, I don't remember what I OD'd on now... You'd think I would, given how extreme the situation was. It was some cold medicine. Do you get sick of people who call themselves bipolar all the time? I absolutely do. It's extremely insensitive to people like myself who legitimately suffer - and I do mean "suffer" - from the disorder. Describe your day so far in three words: Dull. Lazy. Anxious. What was the most stressful project you had so far/while in school? Probably my senior project and the presentation I had to do for it. I taught about the fallacies and misconceptions of snakes, and I made a PowerPoint and some drawings to color and crosswords for the special ed children. I was so, so very nervous, but I got through it fine and the kids seemed to enjoy it. I actually still have the recording. Choose one- Butterfinger, Milky Way, Snickers: MILKY WAY. FUCK I love those. Have you ever stepped in dog poop? UGH yes. What was the last thing you spent money on? My niece's birthday present. Have you ever slept in the same bed with the last person you kissed? Yeah. Is there a guy that knows a lot about you? I almost said "yes," but then I realized he doesn't know me at all anymore. I've changed so much, hopefully mostly for the better. He hasn't "known" me in many years. Is there someone you just can’t imagine your life without? It's terrifying to imagine my life without Mom; Sara, too. Do you prefer Starbucks coffee or small cafe coffee? I prefer no coffee. Would you ever consider getting a piercing in your septum? Nah. Do you enjoy being outdoors? If it's cool outside and I have somewhere to sit that's not the ground, yes. Do people tell you that you have an accent? Sometimes. Do you enjoy watching fireworks on the 4th of July? They're pretty, but I don't support their usage by this point in my life. They're a fire hazard, triggering to some vets with PTSD, and beyond terrifying for animals. What’re some unspeakable subjects for you? I get most heated about child molestation. You do not fucking touch a child like that. I don't even write any of my bajillion evil guys committing it in RP because I just can't stomach it. Even when my little sister (a children's social worker) is telling Mom about some stuff she sees at work, I have to not be present, 'cuz that shit isn't rare. It's nauseating. Is there anyone you would take a bullet for? A good number of people, honestly. Do you enjoy tanning? Hell no, I avoid the sun and heat at like all costs. Are you a virgin? This is going to sound weird, but I actually don't know, but I lean towards no. Who’s your celebrity crush? mARK EDWARD FISCHFUCK Did or do you get good grades in English class? I was always excellent in English. What part of your body are you self-conscious about? My stomach. But I'm self-conscious about everything else, too. Are you expected to help fix Thanksgiving dinner? No. Everyone knows I can't cook worth a damn. Have you ever lost anyone close to cancer? Truly close, no. Unless you include pets, actually. Then a few. :/ Do you personally know anyone who is transgender? Yep. When was the last time you got a shot? Earlier this year for Covid. Get your fucking vaccine, btw. :^)

[particularnervous]

Welcome Home

summary: Shawn and Ella have been dating for a few months and he comes home after being away for a bit 

a/n: This is a continuation of Crowded! To read part one, click here 

----

Ella cursed as she almost dropped the eggs she was carrying, arms full as she tried to open the condo door. She had forgotten a bag when she went to the store, and in an attempt to do the right thing had declined a plastic bag and opted to carry her groceries a block to Shawn’s condo. It didn’t seem that far in distance, but with about a dozen things cradled in her arms, it was definitely an adventure. Ella was aggravated for many reasons though, not just the pile of food she seemed to be dropping. She was attempting to do something nice for her boyfriend who had been out of town on a small two-week promo trip in New York and LA for his newest song. She had Brian expedite ship her his key to the apartment and decided to bake Shawn homemade cookies for when he got back. His mom had been there an hour before to drop off soup and had texted Ella that she had left a cookie sheet and parchment paper. As she made more and more steps in this plan, however, Ella felt extremely stupid. What is Shawn didn’t want to see her right away? He probably just wanted to shower, change, and chill before their plans later in the evening. He was due home at 6:30 and they had planned that he would be over to hers around 9:00.

“I wish I could just fly the plane right to your house. Parachute out of it and be at your front door. I miss you”

That’s the text Ella had received a few days prior, to which she had replied that she’s working on a teleportation device.

Shawn: I’ll be over around 9:00 on Sunday? We can watch a movie or just sleep

Ella: Sleep sounds good, I know you’ll need it. Can’t wait to hear all your travel shenanigans though

Shawn: Can’t wait to tell you them. It’ll be late when I finish the show tonight, will you be up?

Ella: It’s live, I’ll be watching on the corner of my seat silly

Shawn: I’ll call you on my way back to the hotel then. Talk soon, sweetheart.

Now, around 5:00 on Sunday, Ella was second guessing their entire conversation. On the phone that night he had gotten slightly emotional, the lack of sleep and home-sickness catching up with him. Ella had tried her best to console him, her heart aching from not being with him. He had told her probably one million times that night, and since, that he couldn’t wait to see her. But now, as there were only hours until he was home, she wondered if he wasn’t feeling that way anymore. Maybe it would be like when you black out at a club and do some dumb shit and wake up the next morning hungover and guilty wishing you hadn’t done any of it. Not to mention, they had only been dating for close to three months and she had basically broken into his condo without his knowledge.

Ella went about her plans, though, and when the cookies were finished and cooling on a plate she sat back and texted Shawn. She saw she had a few messages from him saying that he had landed and was almost home. She replied, and opened her twitter to look at pictures of Shawn with fans at the airport. Before Shawn, she had followed a few stan accounts, but ever since pictures of them kissing at the club leaked, their entire relationship had been fairly public. It had taken a bit to get used to the hate in the beginning, but she usually stuck to twitter where things were usually nice and mild, and made her Instagram private. She loved interacting with fans now, it made them happy and Shawn loved it. “My favourite people talking”, he would say, “I should bring you on tour with me, they’d want to see you more than me.” She would laugh, but truthfully as much as his fans liked her, she was in awe of the way they cared for her boyfriend. For some, it may be annoying to see girls and guys fawning over your partner, but for Ella it filled her with pride. He was the greatest guy, and she was so happy that everyone saw that. Plus, the stuff that they would say about him physically made her laugh. It wasn’t uncommon for her to reply to a tweet about how hot he was with a witty remark about how she doesn’t know how to control herself around him. Seeing him with fans at his hometown airport, though, brought her another level of happiness. He looked so happy and relieved with his arms around the people in the pictures. She grinned when she saw a tweet with a video of him, the caption ‘oh my god, I love them so much’. She opened it and her heart squeezed listening to him. A fan had asked if he was going home to Ella, and he had replied “I’m seeing her later tonight, I can’t wait to hug her”. Her nerves calmed a bit and she continued to scroll, saving a couple pictures of just him.

Shawn: Just getting home, I’ll text when I’m on my way xo

Ella’s heart started to beat faster as she heard the lock click and the door swing open. Shawn walked in, and it took him a second before he noticed her. He messed with the key, grumbling something about it never cooperating, and put down his guitar, before he turned and finally noticed her standing in the hallway in front of him. The look on his face was priceless as he stared at Ella, mouth wide open.

“I hope this is okay. I wanted to make you cookies because I know you said you were craving the ones I made you that one time, and Brian sent me his key so that’s how I’m here, but I can leave if you want.” Ell rushed out, wringing her hands together in front of her. Finally, Shawn moved, rushing forward and grabbing her into the air. With a shriek, Ella wrapped her legs around his waist, clinging to him. She inhaled his familiar scent, her favourite, and felt tears spring to her eyes. It was only two weeks, but she had missed him so much. Pulling his face out from the space between her neck and shoulder, he grinned at her in awe. “Ella,” he breathed, before kissing her hard. He pulled back quickly, placing jer on his kitchen island and stepping away to admire her. She was wearing leggings and one of his sweaters, her hair braided behind her head, but she looked gorgeous. If he could have framed that view right then and there he would have.

“You’re not mad?” She asked, quietly and he shook his head wildly. How could he be mad? He had wanted nothing more than to take an Uber right to her apartment from the airport but he figured he should bring his stuff home first. He wasn’t expecting this at all, but now that they were here, he realized that it’s exactly what he had wanted. It was something he could get used to, coming home to her.

“Not mad, princess. How could I be? This is the best surprise, you’re the best surprise.” He stepped forward again and wrapped her in his arms, holding her there for a minute.

“Well, in that case, I made you cookies and the soup your mom brought over smells so good.” Shawn laughed, and pulled away, helping Ella down from the island. He went over to the cupboard and grabbed two bowls while Ella took two spoons out of the drawer. Sitting down next to each other, Shawn began telling her about his flight and the airport.

“I saw the video of you saying you were excited to see me, very cute.” Ella teased, and a blush appeared on Shawn’s cheeks.

“Shut up, I wasn’t even that excited.” He muttered and she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, okay Mendes. You’re the one that said you wish you could parachute to me.”

“I said to your apartment, not you. What if I really missed your roommates?” He said, defensively, and she laughed. He had a great relationship with my roommates, and it was something Ells was thankful for. She wouldn’t be surprised if he missed them.

“I’d say, if you missed them so much go hangout there and I’ll enjoy these cookies myself.” Ella huffed, and Shawn laughed, pulling her stool closer to him so that he could wrap his arms around her.

“I think I’ll stay here with you and the cookies.”

A few hours later, they were quietly getting ready for bed in Shawn’s bathroom. Ella had left a toothbrush here officially a month ago, as well as her face wash and moisturizer. When Connor and Brian saw, they made fun of Shawn for a good ten minutes before Connor cracked and told him honestly that he was happy for Shawn. Brian continued to make fun of him.

“I love doing this with you, babe.” Shawn admitted, watching as she ran his brush through her hair. He had finished his routine before her, as usual, and was sitting on the toilet trying to memorize her routine. Hair up, wash face, brush teeth, moisturize, hair down, brush hair, lip chap. It all seemed so domestic he thought his heart might burst. He loved just watching her live her life and do the normal, small things. He was so enthralled.

“I do too,” she replied softly, knowing exactly what he meant. “Makes me feel safe.” She muttered, voice shy. He stood and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back into him. Their eyes met through the mirror and Shawn’s heart skipped a beat. “You make me feel the same way.” He told her, kissing her neck softly. Ella closed her eyes and leaned back into him. They stayed like that for a moment before he pulled away and made his way into the bedroom. She joined him a minute later, having changed into a t-shirt of his. She climbed into bed as he stripped down to his boxers and he stopped short when he turned around and saw her in his bed. This wasn’t a new sight, she had spent the night more than once, but after two weeks apart she looked like a new type of gorgeous all wrapped up in him like that. His shirt, his sheets, he thought he could cry. He grabbed his phone off the nightstand and stood at the end of the bed in the middle, snapping a picture of her. He took a moment to admire it, how soft she looked in the light, the way her face lit up in the smile she always has behind the camera, shy but happy.

“You’re so beautiful, Ella, I’m so lucky.” Ella felt like she might pass out, so overwhelmed with the sweetness of their evening. She couldn’t believe she had been so nervous earlier that night, it seemed pointless now. Shawn tapped away on his phone for a minute, and Ella’s own phone buzzed from beside her. ‘Shawn Mendes as made a post’ her Instagram notified her, and then ‘Shawn Mendes tweeted: I’m in Toronto and I’ve got this view’. The picture he had taken moments before was attached. Ella grinned, commending Shawn on his caption skills. In retaliation, she climbed on top of him and snapped a picture of him looking up at him. She posted it to her own social media, captioning it ‘my view’s better’. They giggled over the replies and comments together, liking and replying to a few of them before putting their phones down.

Shawn turned on his side and pulled Ella into him, kissing the back of her head. “Goodnight, honey.” He whispered, and Ella squeezed his hand as her own goodnight. The two of them slept better than they had the past two weeks.

[imnotcameraready]

chivalry is dead

A/N: honestly, this started as me being like “I kinda wanna write some touch-starved Roman,” and it spiraled. should i make more chapters? the ending is Open for that

Warnings: touch starvation/touch starved, cursing (there’s 1 f-word), Sympathetic (?) Deceit, self-hatred, confusing feelings — honestly, I don’t know what else ;v; let me know if there’s something that I’ve missed

Words: 2306

Characters: Roman, the Imagination, Deceit, mentions of Thomas, Logan, Patton, and Virgil

Pairings: DLAMP if you squint but, if this does turn into multiple chapters, then DLAMP is endgame

EDIT: its turned into multiple chapters y’all!!!

Part 1 (chivalry is dead) — Part 2 (i’m wishing) — Part 3 (the bells of notre dame) — Part 4 (honor to us all)

AO3 link!

enjoy!!!

It wasn’t like Roman asked to be this way, to be made of desire and desperation and dreams.

He was sitting in his room, spending another day brainstorming video ideas, falling into a rabbit hole of daydreaming of the future. His room, overlooking the vast Imagination, had morphed to include an approximately-floor-length window. The window sill was large and cushioned, emulating a plush chaise longue, and Roman readily draped himself across it. He stared out the window and had let himself get lost, dragging Thomas’ concentration with him. They dreamt of possible plays Thomas could act in come the future, of future romances to hold, and love.

That was where the buck stopped. Roman could feel Logan subconsciously tugging Thomas’ focus back onto the task at hand, as per usual. Of course, Roman let him go, and he continued to ponder alone. 

The Imagination warped around with him, his room shortening, the window’s glass disappearing and opening up into another half of a room. What room? Roman didn’t know, he didn’t base these self-insert daydreams on anything in particular. It was carpeted, homely, and the scene smelt of freshly baked cookies and lavender candles.

He ran his hand along the cushion behind him, then gripped the velvety fabric tight. He didn’t want to be alone in this scene.

“What’s got you so glum, kiddo,” Roman didn’t pick a specific voice, but his mind conjured a mix between Patton’s exuberance and Logan’s attentiveness, “You’ve been zoned out for hours.”

The hands that rested on his shoulders, though, were as pale as Virgil’s. Thomas was no longer tuned into his fantasies, wholly focused on the taxes Logan was probably doing. Roman let himself lean back into this person’s arms, letting himself imagine being comforted.

The person — Roman was sure they didn’t have a name, considering the Imagination’s creation didn’t even pick a specific Side to play — began massaging his shoulders. However, the Imagination was just that, and thus the creation’s touch didn’t feel right. It was too imaginary.

“I don’t know,” a blatant lie, Roman knew, but he didn’t want to consider what he actually felt.

“We don’t want to invite anyone else, do we, Princey?” Virgil’s voice now, low and threatening and more worried than was realistic. “C’mon. You can talk to me.” Also unrealistic.

Roman smiled, though his sentiments weren’t humorous. Of course this predicament would make him stoop so low as to be comforting himself, with these damned fantasies no less.

He straightened his posture and the creation took the invitation, sitting down behind him. Its arms wrapped around his waist, beneath Roman’s arms, and one of its legs kicked itself onto the longue’s other side to straddle him. Roman still stiffened, despite the lack of pressure, the lack of honest warmth in the other’s touch.

Roman cleared his throat, hoping that his words wouldn’t catch. “Do you mind if I draw?” he asked, merely as a courtesy, because of course he knew the answer. And yet his voice still caught, cracking on the word “draw.”

“Of course,” softer than Logan’s voice would ever go.

Roman summoned a thick drawing pad and a pencil, immediately training his eyes on the blank paper so he could ignore the growing burning sensation where the figment’s chest was pressed against his back. The line between Roman’s room, the unchanging and easily-accessible to other Sides, and the Imagination, Roman’s domain, was thinner than a hair. In times like this, even Roman didn’t know where the boundary was.

The fantasy tightened its grip on Roman’s shirt and he stiffened again. His stomach did somersaults, he hadn’t been held this long in so long, and it was so foreign that he wanted to throw the imaginary body off of him. Despite the burning sensation that its touch incurred, he didn’t want to let go. “You didn’t answer my question,” Logan, again, though more accusatory. Virgil, perhaps? A hybrid.

“I don’t want to answer,” Roman responded, trying to keep the confusing storm of emotions out of his voice.

“....I’m worried about you,” Patton now, as the weightless hand let go of his shirt and lowered itself to tug his waist again, “You haven’t been outside in days.”

Roman sighed. Why hadn’t he been outside? Had it truly been days? He could force the Imagination to display a nice daytime sun, so he couldn’t really tell the passage of time while holed up in his room. His eyes didn’t move from the paper. His arm lifted, doodling something. He didn’t pay attention to what.

Time passed. Roman wasn’t sure how much, but he had nearly filled the page before the figure lifted a hand and pointed to what Roman had drawn. “Alright, Princey, spill. You can’t hide forever,” Virgil’s accusatory tone, with Patton’s soft concern.

It was two hands, intertwined.

God, it was a miracle Deceit hadn’t barged in yet to slap reality into him.

He could conjure as many imaginary figures as he wanted, to hold and kiss and twirl and hug, all day, any day, but none of them felt as real as he needed. Nothing felt real, not here. Not even the imaginary creature behind him, with its cold yet warm yet unreal lips pressed against the base of his neck.

Roman shivered, but in pleasure or unease, he couldn’t tell.

It wasn’t like he didn’t get touched, either. Patton hugged him a lot, nearly every day, or tugged his arm, or brushed arms past him in the kitchen. It was usually Patton, as Logan and Virgil didn’t typically apply physical touch. They had their own love languages, so to speak, and Roman was a master linguist. He could compliment, give gifts and services, spend time —

“Yet you turn into a brick when I pat your shoulder,” Logan’s voice again, as though driving the point home, “You have your own languages, too, Roman. You shouldn’t hide that.”

Roman snorted, curling forward, away from the figure. “If I wanted to be berated, I’d go into the common room and let Logan do it himself,” he hissed.

Even he was turning into his own villain.

….As much as he disliked spotlighting his weaknesses, the figure had a point. The obvious solution to his problem was to go outside and, gosh, maybe just ask someone for a fucking hug? Barge into the kitchen and twirl the first person he saw, kiss them all over their face and exposé his love, his undying love.

The imaginary man’s arms unraveled from his waist. Roman knew fully that that sort of display wouldn’t fly, that he couldn’t just demand contact from the others.

“Well, why not?” Patton, confused, even hurt. And another voice. Deceit? Was Deceit permeating his subconscious, too?

“Well, gee, consent, first of all. Second, Virgil or Logan wouldn’t enjoy that, and I wouldn’t want to startle Pat. Plus, Patton’s clumsy on his feet, and a boisterous display of affection would throw him off his balance, thus he’s out of the question as well, and….” Roman cut himself off with a since as he felt the figure behind him stand back up, the not-real weight leaving Roman’s back cold and too light for comfort.

“I see,” now, who’s voice was that? Logan’s understanding, a monotonous knowing tone, but with Virgil’s anger and hostility laced through, and an underlying level of sadness, of remorse that could have only come from Patton. Was that just three voices in one? Four? The all-too-undeceivable Deceit, with his ability to see through Roman’s bravado like clear glass. The Imagination’s creation was truly falling apart now.

Wait, what did the Imagination “see”? Roman didn’t understand, and the Imagination didn’t have a conscious without him. He turned around, looking up from the drawing pad, mouth open to ask.

There was no one there. No more open, warm room. The scents of home had long since dissipated — had Roman not noticed? How deep into his own fantasies was he, that he didn’t realize the divide between his room and the Imagination had reestablished itself.

Instead, he was facing the window again, overlooking an overcast grassy plain that led into a forest. A stereotypical vision, of course. In the distance was a castle. Prince Roman’s castle, actually. This was one of his default views, when he didn’t want to acknowledge his role as a Prince in the kingdom of Thomas’ mind but, rather, his role as a humble storyteller, casting himself as the chorus rather than the lead.

It was a type of comforting distance from the responsibility of feeling. And, yet, Roman missed the fantasy. He missed its touch, however fake it felt. His stomach stopped lurching and now sat like a stone, shoulders leaning down under a tremendous weight, despite the weight that had left and left him feeling lightheaded.

But what was this constant greed, this unethical and unchivalrous yearning for more? The relief was instantaneous, every time Roman let himself soften into whoever’s hand was resting upon his, but the moment that their touch withdrew, the gaping hole opened once more. The alternative was that he wanted to be hugged indefinitely, to have a pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders at all times, but he could already hear Logan’s voice berating him for the unrealistic nature of that desire. Maybe that was why Patton always wore his hoodie around his shoulders? He’d tear out his own tongue before asking. No, Roman wouldn’t give in to these desires.

….Since when did Roman resist his desires? Wasn’t that all he was? The producer of desires, of wants and selfishness?

He whipped around, throwing the pencil in his hand at the wall. It splintered into two with a loud crack, in time with thunder from the storm outside. Roman starred at the black lead mark on the wall, willing himself to not think about how that’s all he was, how he continued to push Thomas in directions that no one else agreed with. Slowly, he ran a hand through his hair and dropped the drawing pad onto the ground, legs bending up to his chest. If he was a prince, why couldn’t he be chivalrous? Why couldn’t he just let go of these asinine dreams?

The thunder crackled again, yanking Roman back into the present moment. When did the storm start? He turned around to the window.

A hand touched his cheek. There was no glass, no window — how long had there been no window, and how long had he not noticed? — and, floating outside was a man-shaped cloud. It was distinctly man-shaped, with legs and arms and a hand on Roman’s cheek, lightning crackling out its back. Roman’s brows shot up, eyes widening. Jesus, his Imagination had truly run wild, hadn’t it? On most days, Roman would question how this cloud being had formed. Most of the Imagination’s creations were made consciously. Roman could will castles up from the ground, summon armies and sunny days and grassy fields, build up whole cities and whole worlds, but that all came from his will. The Imagination didn’t usually operate without Roman’s will.

The hand was cold, misty wet. It must be because this person was a cloud, Roman thought. It didn’t feel real, not like how Patton would cup his cheek and kiss his forehead. It felt even more fake than the figment had earlier. The hand had no weight, no warmth, but it was contact nonetheless, and the tingling electricity that shot across his face silenced all of Roman’s confusion and worries, demanded he focus on the touch alone.

He leaned into the hand, letting the cloud’s other arm loop itself around his back, pull him off the couch, and lift him into the cloud’s chest. He didn’t know where it was taking him, what it was doing. This was lighter than the imaginary man’s, softer and colder and faker. But he knew that his was what he wanted, what he needed, and even though Roman knew he shouldn’t indulge himself, he let his guard drop.

The cloud picked him up, carrying him like a koala. Roman threw his arms around the cloud’s shoulders, eyes squeezing shut, willing and hoping for this companionship to be real. He didn’t notice his room fade from around him, didn’t notice his bed and desk and the posters and fairly lights and carpet and closet disappear until just his bedroom door was left, floating and surrounded by nothing.

No, Roman just hugged this ghost of air, trying to believe in the arms that wrapped around his back and legs. Trying to believe he was wanted.

Until that disappeared, too.

And Roman plummeted, away from his room, away from the Mind Palace home, into the dark and newly unfamiliar pit of the Imagination.

Deceit was shocked. Not by Roman being a desperate and starved fool, but more by the ground fading away beneath him. He was rooted in reality, thus standing on a solid floor despite its invisibility.

He’d only been there a few moments, arriving just in time to see Roman fling a pencil at the wall. With that as his foresight, Deceit’d chosen to hide himself, turn invisible so the prince wouldn’t know he was watching.

Some part of him was angry, now, for keeping his presence a secret. Especially now, as he watched Roman be swallowed in a black gaping hole impossibly far beneath him. It took him a few minutes of staring into the darkness, confused and disoriented and inexplicably angry, for him to finally find the strength to take four steps backwards, open Roman’s bedroom door, and dart back into the Mind Palace.

Whatever this problem was, Deceit knew he had to tell the others. They had to figure out this hole Roman’d dug for himself and, hopefully, lift him out of it.

[bunny-banana]

For the director's cut thing, the story where Fabri asks Ermal out on a date but Ermal doesn't realize that? 👀

YO SO WE GONNA DO THAT OR WHAT

Its this fic btw if anyones curious.  

Chap 1

Even with closed eyes, he sensed the man lying next to him turn towards him but Fabrizio did not spoke immediately. No, he just stayed silent for a bit, Ermal wasn’t quite sure what he was observing but before Ermal could ask, Fabrizio broke the silence.

its u. he’s gazing at u, u idiot.

*

*

’You didn’t exactly give off the vibe that you’d say yes’

“What the fuck does that even mean? I don’t give off the vibe?!”

mr no-homo meta has NO right to be surprised at that. boy went into a panic attack every time someone as much as breathed the suggestion ofc fab was Anxious

*

*

A certain Roman showing up at his doorstep looking like he’d belong to the Milan Fashion Week.A tight grey shirt whose top three buttons almost begged to be opened (yet remained miraculously, in Fabris case, closed!) clung nicely to the body underneath it. A very fine silver chain hung around his neck that perfectly fit with the rings and the watch on his hand.Instead of ripped denim, now tight & shiny dark jeans were worn and to round this look up, an impeccably tailored black, suit jacket was thrown over him.

so not to be Hoe on main but we all just love Sexy Fab.  but more so, i really thought Fabrizio would have put a lot of effort into dressing nicely this time around. Probably called a few friends, crying to help him. He just wanted Ermal to like his look. Which he did.   A lot.  again, outstanding heterosexual of the year, ermal meta is completely mesmerised by that look.

*

*

“Well, well, Fab. Gotta say, this place is on a whole different level“ The curly haired man commented as he flipped through the menu.“You like it?”“How could I not?”

again, Fabrizio intentionally looking up a fancy place for their Date, something he actually felt a little bit uncomfortable about himself and wouldnt normally chose for himself. But then again, he was greatly relieved when Ermal actually did say he liked it.

*

*It felt.. nice. The whole evening was quite nice, Ermal had to admit, even with the unusual ambient.

Ermal is just honestly iconic in this fic. man enjoys fabrizios appearance, enjoys talking with him,  eating out with him, just spending time with him in general sooo much……and yet.

*

*

Fabrizio tilted his head and was it the candle light or something else, but a intriguing shine filled his eyes.“I’d know something sweeter than this.” In the next moment, everything turned upside down when Fabrizio suddenly took his hand and intertwined their fingers, his thumb gently brushing over the back of the younger man’s hand.

THE COURAGE THIS TOOK. THE NERVES WHICH WERE WRECKED.  Fab really just went “ok here we go balls to the wall now or never”

*

*

Chap2

“So, Fabrizio….Fabrizio likes me. Apparently.” It felt interesting to say it out loud. Ermal got a tingly feeling at the thought. So ..it was him who made Fabrizio blush earlier? Who made him nervous? And smiley?  Christ, he actually really wanted Ermal to like his outfit, didn’t he? A small smirk found its way on Ermal’s face. Who would have thought that he’d have Fabrizio Moro of all people wrapped around his finger.

erm: so im het

also erm: wow i really really like the fact that fabrizio is into me. its actually super exciting. kinda makes me happy in a way.

*

*

“Wait, what?! I should ask him out?!”“Yeah? Isn’t that something you want?”Is that something he- But that would imply that he’d want to pursue Fabrizio, his very male, masculine, manly friend Fabrizio who was definitely not by any chance a woman. To have a relationship with guy that was …..romantic… and oh sweet Mother of God, sexual?!“I- I- I don’t know.”

so yeah, to get to the bottom of this, when you’re in the process of realising your own …..non-heterosexuality, its just A Lot to take in.  I thought, realistically, that would just be a bit too much for Ermal to take in at that moment. He had to process the mere thought of “yes, you could have a romantic relationship with this guy, since he’s into you. Its absolutely a possibility”. When you’re conditioned to think “i can only ever date people of the opposite sex” all your life, it takes a bit of time to get accustomed to new possibilities.

And then theres the sexual aspect which is like, on Jupiter, for Ermal’s current state of mind.

*

*

Chap3

The video he currently was immersed in showed a slow-mo fight between a mongoose and a cobra that in all its intensity outdid any action movie in a heartbeat.

i remember watching that vid before writing that chapter and being mesmerised by it. u fucking go lil mongoose!

*

*

[Bizio]: sorry i cant this weekend

First, i just love the thought of him being saved as Bizio on Ermals phone. Second, the reason why he replied so late was because he was wrecking his mind about it. Should he go? should he not? god, the thought of seeing ermal excited him and yet scared him. nonononno. he’s trying to get Over Ermal. He needs space. he is not ready yet.

*

*

[Ermal]:Fabri!! Heard you’re coming up North! 😁 I have this excellent bottle of wine that a fan gave me the other day (don’t ask) so how about we open it at my place? I know you love a good wine 😉🍷

He couldn’t even slide the phone back into his pocket before it started buzzing. Surprisingly, the reply came almost instantly this time.[Bizio]:sorry no the schedule is pretty tight for me at the moment i dont think ill have much time in milan

i just image him getting the weirdest fucking fan gifts. also lmao the lightning speed with which fab replied. homeboy saw that wine would be involved and imemdiately thought “nononononono. worst case, my drunk ass might kiss him, god forbid. we are absolutely not gonna do that”

*

*

[Ermal]:So I’m flipping through the channels at home and there comes a baking show and I wouldn’t normally stop to watch but you know what they’re baking? Those creamy pastry things we had in Lisbon!

Now the idea about the Pasteis de Nata stemms from a real life event! During ESC 2018 i slept at a friends house and since the contest was held in Portugal we decided to cook something portuguese. Thats what we did. They fucking slap. Also, one of the best weekends ive ever had

*

*

However, this is how things continued as to all of Ermal’s messages, he’d receive rather uncharacteristically short replies. When he sent him photos he’d often not reply at all and even when he called Fabri didn’t pick.

Okay we have to image in WHAT kinda mental state Fabrizio is in that time. Boy is EMBARASSED to death. Then obviously, he is trying his hardest to get rid of this crush.  So he just isnt talking to Ermal at all. Which in turn makes him lonely and sad.  So then Ermal shoots him a message, sends him a picture and Fabrizio is immediately head over heels again. Which he shouldnt be. Bad Fabri. And the circle repeats itself.

*

*

Fabrizio who smiled sweetly at the host, who hugged her tightly, who joked with her and oh, whose eyes didn’t stick to her face but wandered more and more south.

Dude honestly, Fab was not flirting with anyone. He was just being nice as he usually is. And we all know he a lil bit sleazy so yeah, he might have looked down once or twice. but he really was not flirting. It was just Ermals affection-deprived mind going berserk.

Also that was the first time Ermal witnessed Fabrizio being affectionate with someone else. And the contrast to that cold shoulder he received was just the last straw for him.

*

*

“Why is he all smiley and lovey-dovey with her while he treats me as if I’m a war criminal?!” Ermal shouted the second the other line got picked up.“Uhm, hello? Maybe a ‘Good morning’ first of all? A simple ‘how are you doing, Sabina?’ would have been appreciated too.”

Damn bitch can ya greet ur sister first before going off smh

*

*

And would it have been really that bad if Ermal had just held on to his hand? Let Fabrizio gently stroke him with his thumb, maybe even squeeze back while Ermal’s finger draws circles over letters that covered the older man’s knuckles.It would have been nice and Ermal would have liked it.

I think he just needed to see what he was missing out to realise what he really has always wanted. If things were to go back to normal, he would have never made any realisations.

*

*

“Am I- Do I like Fabrizio?”

No, we dont ask what he is. Because thats for another time, a calmer time. Or maybe not at all. He doesnt know the answer to that question and its not important right now. All he knows is that despite it all, he likes Fabrizio.

*

*

The fact he was a guy was new, but those feelings involved weren’t.

I feel like this is just a very bisexual experience. At least to me it was. Its very confusing when u are genuinely attracted to the opposite sex, so you make the conclusion: you are obviously straight. Its not possibly that you are not-straight.  

Then u start feeling attraction to someone of ur own gender and its like “hmmm. Obviously this must be fake since we have established that Im genuinely attracted to the opposite sex ”

But the thing is..it aint going away. And then u think how you’d perhaps be down for sex, and perhaps be down for something more, and perhaps do all those nice things you would be doing with someone of the opposite sex.  

So yeah, its ..its really confusing and complicated to figure it out. And if you actually do have a feelings for someone it only makes matters more complicated ig

*

*

“Jesus, I really do like him. Me. Liking a guy.”

Again, once u made That Realisation, its just the WILDEST thing in the beginning. a complete NEW concept being applied to yourself.

*

*

“LISTEN CUT THE BULLSHIT I KNOW EXACTLY THAT YOU’RE HOME! OPEN UP OR I WILL STAND HERE ALL NIGHT I’M NOT FUCKING AROUND!” In addition to the knocking he now also started ringing the doorbell. He sure as hell wouldn’t move here until that door wasn’t opened.“I DONT GIVE A FUCK, I WON’T EVEN SLEEP AND NEITHER WILL YOU. I CAN GO ON FOREVER YOU HEAR ME, FABRIZIO MOBRICI?!”

Ermal is just unhinged in all my fics.

*

*

Epilogue

[Ermal💛]: You ready?

Fabrizio added that heart right immediately after Ermal left his house a week prior.

*

*

Ermal looked….cuddly.

So yeah we all know Fab isnt the keenest on fashion and shit. And i just though Ermal would want him to be as comfortable as possible on their date, so he was like “ay come casual” . and also, its sort of cute that Ermal lets Fabri see him so casual too, its sort of more private in that sense.

*

*

And those were still the mild surprises, let’s not start with the downright shock he felt when his brain started providing words like kissable, attractive, sexy and hot during lonelier nights.

i have a fic for those kinda nights too

*

*

“It’s not that far and God knows men your age need the exercise anyway.”

ermal just cant show affection like a normal person, he has to roast u even when he’s madly in love with u

*

*

What followed behind the colourful door was a small chaos. Literally. People constantly coming and going, with buzzing voices chatting in every corner. They made their way half through the rather crowded establishment, got greeted by a waiter who rushed past them, before they finally spotted a couple leaving, liberating two chairs for them.

SO YEAH. the restaurant. it is loosely based on a place here in Vienna. Its pakistani food too, its a buffet, its kinda chaotic like described in the fic. also u can pay as much as u want.

i just thought, yknow, its home made cooking and its kinda relaxed and chill and casual and has a certain liberal flair to it. and i thought yeah that has fabri energy we gonna use that. also their mango rice puddings fucking slap

*

*

Languages were not his forte, those belonged to Ermal, but Fabrizio ran through his options. It surely wasn’t French or Spanish, that he would at least recognise. German looked different too; they had those dots over their U’s and those curly B’s which allegedly weren’t B’s at all. Swedish? Danish? No. He’s been to Ikea often enough to know that his wardrobe wouldn’t be called Qershor. And Russian had different letters but maybe it was something similar to Russian?

Okay, so I’m a known Slut for Languages.  Fabrizio is not. I can pretty much recognise most European languages in written form at some point in a text. Fabrizio can not. Therefore writing this from the perspective of someone who really isnt into languages was kind of interesting and a bit challenging. I was just thinking ‘how would he recognise them when he isnt into them?’  And i think, in the end, i did it realistically.

*

*

“Is it like..Serbian? Croatian? Or something?” He mumbled while putting a piece of eggplant in his mouth but quickly realised the answer when Ermal almost spit out his water from laughing.“No, definitely not. I can guarantee you, it’s very much not Serbian or Croatian ‘or something’.” Ermal chuckled with a bright smile, obviously enjoying their little guessing game. “But you’re close. In a way.”

This is SO embarrassing but this whole language guessing game was just a setup to an inside joke I have with myself.  So, for those who don’t know, I speak Serbo-Croatian. And I study Slavic studies. The first things they tell you in the first lesson of the Slavic Linguistics course is “Please, for the love of God, PLEASE, dont say Albanian/Hungarian/Romanian is a slavic language”. Apparently many europeans assume these languages are because theyre surrounded by slavic countries. BUT TO AN ACTUAL SLAVIC NATIVE SPEAKER, the difference is immediately obvious and so its quite comical when people assume theyre related languages.   So i thought the reverse would be kinda funny to Ermal too.

*

*

“I can be anything the teacher wants me to be. A good student, a naughty student, whatever floats his boat…” He asked sultrily before winking at the man across of him whose higher brain functions seemed to have ceased at once and just gaped at him like a fish.

boys whole brain got fried when the sexiest man in italy started flirting with him. issokay, he was just shocked. fabrizio has never been flirty with him before, he’ll get used to it.

*

*

“I was just trying to give you the best date that I could.“At those words, the Roman frowned however."Wait, this was a date?!”

im just an asshole honestly

*

*

They giggled as they finally closed the gap between them going for a slow and deep kiss.

i just love them being all SOFT and in LOVE

*

*

“Erm, I- I have an instore tomorrow, I better be well rested.”His counterpart just huffed and raised an eyebrow.“So were you planning on staying up all night, huh?”

Fabs horn dog brain definitively went HmmmmMmm this is nice:) ..could get even nicer:)  but no fuck, i have work to do tomorrow

*

*

“Love how you immediately forget about a good night’s sleep once you have a tongue in your mouth.”“Fuck off.”

He just got carried away as if u were complaining ermal smh

*

*

"I bet on everything I have that your password is 'liberoanita1’ so yes, I actually can.”

Parents culture is just using ur children’s names as all your passwords and we all know Fabri is that kinda parent.

*

*

All in All, i also wanna talk about how the epilogue mirrors the first chapter, but in a more successful light.

Fabrizio dresses for Ermal - Ermal dresses for Fabrizio

fancy place - more casual place

They take the car - they walk

Fabrizio takes Ermals hand on the open for everyone to see - Ermal takes Fabrizios hand under the table, in private

They eat their dessert seperately - they eat theri dessert together

they fall out - they become closer, kiss

they dont talk - they plan the next date

anyway thanks for reading and thank uuuuuu for this ask julchen